A King's Duty
by cowlicklesschick
Summary: Sequel to In the Name of the Crown. Rebuilding a world after a bloodthirsty lunatic tries to overtake it is never an easy task. But Peter might prefer the daunting list of responsibilities as king when compared to talking with a beautiful woman whose life-long ambition seems to be tearing down propriety every chance she gets.
1. Chapter 1

_**Greetings! Welcome to the sequel of In the Name of the Crown. If you have not already read ItNotC, please exit stage left and catch up, so you won't spoil anything and have to stop every five paragraphs to figure out who all these OCs are. If, however, you enjoy spoilers, proceed by all means, but I'll admit that people like you frighten me a little.**_

 _ **This is proving to be a LOT of fun to work on. It's much more lighthearted than its prequel – because Peter Pevensie deserves to be happy, that's why – and so I'm having all kinds of fun with dialogue and such and it's just so great. Edmund and Adeline (though not immediately, just be patient!), and there's a bit more Suspian (because why would you not want that?) and also a lot of fluff because DID I MENTION THAT PETER DESERVES TO BE HAPPY.**_

 _ **Anyway. Please read, and let me know what you think. Thank you!**_

/

The air smelled like fresh bread, like flowers and like the sea and the herbs that hung from above the merchant stalls. Susan took a deep breath, savoring it. It was an aroma unlike any other, and it was home.

Cair Paravel still bore some scars from the attempted invasion; there were portions of the citadel that hadn't been rebuilt yet, but for the most part the damage had been repaired.

Better yet was the lifted spirits every time a ship pulled into the harbor. Susan smiled at the thought of another such joyous occasion today.

Over a thousand children had been the victims of Xaviar's plot, and slowly but surely they were being brought home again. Shortly after Adeline's return to Anvard, Alvaro had come so they could all decide upon a course of action. It had been discovered that Narnian children were not the only ones to have disappeared; Calormen and the Archenlands had also been raided on their remotest borders.

But the greatest numbers by far were from the Lone Islands. Xaivar had cut off all messenger ships so that the islanders couldn't call for aid, but now that the communication channels were open again, it was obvious that the parents had been on the verge of giving up hope.

Peter especially had been relieved when the governors had told him that detailed records of each child that had gone missing, including their parents, which island they were from, the child's age and physical descriptions, and more information had been kept in hopes that assistance in finding them would come.

Thus begun a long, strenuous process of locating the children. Once found, they were sent to their nation's capital, where the numerous respective officials there would contact their families and arrange passage for the reunions.

Edmund had been the one to set up the whole system, and while it wasn't without its hiccups it did work for the most part. One significant upside to it was the horde of children currently residing in the Cair's guest wing. The servants were kept busy with the added laundry and cooking, but Susan was grateful they could look after these little souls and give them a few days or weeks of fun and safety. A few had been brought to them with fevers, but Lucy had dutifully nursed them back to health.

All in all, it had been a good three months.

Caspian squeezed her hand, bringing her out of her thoughts. "You all right?"

She smiled. "Yes. Just happy. I like these days."

He nodded, understanding. "Me, too. It's…bittersweet, since of course we'd prefer them not to have been taken in the first place, but the relief you see on the parents' faces is all the reward we could ask for."

Yes, she agreed. There were usually very few dry eyes at the docks on days when a ship came in. But the tears were mostly from joy. The rest she supposed were from relief and residual fear.

"Today's different, I suppose. We're sending children back instead of receiving any."

Caspian shrugged. "The islands don't have any groups ready to send here yet, but we're beginning to run out of room in the guest wing. And Felimath was the logical place to start, since it's the largest. We're able to send almost sixty home on this voyage alone."

Susan brushed her hair out of her face; the winds were brutal down here on the docks. "I know it's selfish, but I wish we could see their return home. Think how awful it must have been for their families all this time. And the children are having to wait even longer to see them again."

"Lord Ramandu said his daughter was a favorite with the children there; somehow I think her coming the parents' stead will soften the blow."

He grinned impishly at her. "Peter might have some competition."

She had to chuckle at that. Her brother, having grown up with three younger siblings, was quite the natural with children of all ages, and in a matter of days he'd been unanimously declared the favorite.

At this moment, however, relief was the only emotion Susan could identify as the ship drew closer, the sails billowing in the wind.

/

There was really nothing like watching a sunrise from the quarterdeck, Lilliandil mused. She loved early mornings from her balcony at home, but here, with the sky and the salty air, there was such an ethereal beauty to it all that part of her almost wished she could remain at sea forever. She was glad she'd had such a start to this day, and the pleasant weather had persisted all morning. Even now, with the sun approaching its midday mark, it was not uncomfortably warm.

The scenery, however beautiful it may be, could not save her from the nervous butterflies that were plaguing her stomach. The Narnian docks were close enough she could make out the red banner, emblazoned with the gold lion, beneath which stood two of Narnia's monarchs. It was too far away to tell which ones were there to greet her, nor was Lilliandil familiar enough to recognize them from any distance.

She resisted the urge to fuss with the lace frill that hung about her wrists; her maid Fiona had helped her into her best gown for the last leg of the voyage, but even the pretty lavender silk was failing her now.

"I've heard that Queen Lucy is one of the kindest souls you could ever hope to meet."

Lilliandil smiled despite herself. "I'm sure you're right, Captain."

The round-bellied man looked at her anxiously. "My lady, I'm sorry to say you're trembling like a leaf."

At that she laughed. "Again, you're not mistaken, my dear Captain. But it's only a case of nerves."

"Nerves?"

"I'm sure they're very nice, I've heard wonderful things about all of them, but my goodness I never expected to be the one in charge of sixty children on the way home. And we're not leaving for another three days."

The captain patted her shoulder in an awkward, bumbling sort of way. "I'm certain they'll think you're wonderful, miss. Just like the rest of us do."

She smiled gratefully, but there wasn't time to say anything else because the gangplank was being lowered, and the captain offered her his arm to disembark. She tried not to clutch his sleeve too tightly.

Up close, the Narnian citadel looked vast, and intimidating. Fleetingly Lilliandil thought of the little Felimath marketplace, where the stalls were crowded close together and one could scarcely walk for all the children running through the streets.

At least, it used to be that way. But it would be full of laughter and play once more, thanks to the efforts of Aslan's chosen. The thought made her concentrate on her purpose here – it wasn't to get star-struck over meeting the Four, it was to return her people's children home.

Quite suddenly, she was standing under that red banner, and she curtsied. "Your Majesties."

"Lady Lilliandil." The queen stepped forward and placed on hand on her shoulder. "We have anxiously awaited your arrival. Welcome to Cair Paravel."

"Thank you."

The woman smiled. "I'm Susan, by the way. This is my husband, Caspian."

"Hello," he greeted cheerfully. Lilliandil felt the anxious knot in her stomach loosen.

"Pleased to meet you."

She started to curtsy again, but Caspian stopped her with a laugh. "You won't get away with formality once we get back up to the castle; Lucy absolutely hates for etiquette to get in the way. You can just call us by our names."

She smiled. "I think I'm going to get along smashingly with Lucy."

They walked her off the docks, and started making their way up the streets. Lilliandil noticed there were several portions that looked to be nothing more than piles of rubble; several buildings looked new or recently repaired, and worst of all was the lack of children. There were a few handfuls, but not nearly the number one would expect in a city this size.

"The search is going well," Lilliandil offered. "We've adopted a similar system, bringing them all to one central location before sending them home. The first group of about forty or so was en route to my father's estate when I left Felimath."

Caspian nodded gratefully. "Thank you, my lady. It's been…trying."

That was something she definitely understood, but she smiled nonetheless. "If I'm expected to call you by your names, then you lot have to call me Lilliandil, or Lilly. This 'my lady' business always makes me twitchy."

For a moment the two just stared at her, then identical smiles bloomed on their faces.

"You're right," Caspian declared. He stood between the two women, and he offered his other arm to Lilliandil. "You and Lucy are going to be _great_ friends."

They spoke of other, light hearted things as they made their way up to the castle. There was no rush, but they didn't dawdle. Once they arrived Lilliandil would be taken immediately to see the children, and then lunch. Susan made excuses for her missing siblings.

"Edmund and Adeline are in Anvard for the next week or so, overseeing the returns there. Not to mention Fitz and Izzy were so glad to have Addie back that we couldn't make her leave again just yet. Lucy is currently tending to some of the children, though there's nothing more than a mild fever, and Peter ought to be about elbows deep in paperwork. I imagine we'll have to extricate him for lunch."

Caspian nudged his wife. "Though, to be fair, he's probably got half a dozen children in his study while he works. They can't stay away from him."

Lilliandil smiled. "And unless your brother's heart is made of stone, he can't bring himself to send them away."

The couple gave her rather curious glances.

"That's exactly the way they are at home," she laughed. "A few years ago I had to have a separate table brought into my study for them to play at while I try to be productive. Once they bring out the puppy eyes it's impossible to say no."

"Impossible for Peter, anyway," Caspian muttered. "Big sap that he is."

She laughed harder. "Is he really that bad?"

"We'll let you decide," was Susan's prim response.

Quite suddenly they were at the palace steps; Lilliandil's nerves returned to her, but she swallowed them best she could and followed Susan and Caspian up the massive sandstone entrance, into a grand marble hall that was teeming with servants and shouting children.

She smiled. It might be a huge building, but Cair Paravel was exactly the same as her father's mansion inside. And that was a great comfort.

"Susan!" A slender young woman appeared out of literally nowhere. "I'm so sorry, I wanted to come with you to the docks but the bunch that were brought in last night, from that village out past the Dancing Lawn, they all had raging fevers and I've only just managed to get them under control, they'll need quite a bit of rest before they're fit to travel, and I'm so sorry to ramble like this, you must think I'm awfully rude, I'm Lucy, pleasure to meet you."

This was all said in one large breath, with the last bit directed towards Lilliandil, who blinked and laughed slightly.

"Er…hello. I'm Lilliandil, and I'm so sorry but are any of those children from the Islands?"

Lucy smiled reassuringly. "Oh, no. These poor things are all from Calormen. But they're not well enough to even travel to Anvard, much less Tashbaan and then all the way home."

Lilliandil nodded, relieved.

"Your lot are doing wonderful," Lucy added. She seemed to understand, and Lilliandil smiled gratefully. "Would you like to see them?"

"Very much," was the longest answer Lilliandil trusted herself to give without succumbing to tears. She'd been fighting a good cry – which she knew she needed – ever since their ship left Felimath.

Lucy took her hand, and whirled them up the stairs, down several hallways until Lilliandil truly didn't know where on earth she was, and through a set of double doors that were opened wide.

" _Miss Lilly!"_

The cry was music to her ears, and even better was the horde of children that stampeded towards her. Long past caring about decorum or propriety, she dropped to her knees and let the arms engulf her, nearly knocking her backwards.

"Oh, children," was all she could say. "I have missed you all so."

They surrounded her, the sheer size of their massive group hug forcing Caspian, Susan and Lucy backwards several feet, but Lilliandil managed to catch their eyes over the throng of chattering voices and reaching hands, and all three wore identical smiles. The awful, knotted pit in her stomach loosened slightly.

She leaned back and smoothed one little girl's hair. "Are you all right? Are all of you here?"

"All but two."

She looked up – and was shocked at how high she had to look up. "My goodness, Issachar. You've gone and gotten taller than me."

"It was about time, too," he grinned teasingly. She rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same.

"Stella, dear, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Miss Lilly." The girl looked tired and in her eyes, Lilliandil could tell they had been through a terrible ordeal.

"Your father is doing well. He's so excited to see you."

The sad look in Stella's eyes lightened considerably. "Thank you, Miss Lilly. I've worried about him."

There was much less shouting now, enough for Caspian to say, "You said there were two of you missing?"

"Andres got up a game of hide and seek," Issachar replied, absently picking up a tot who reached up for him, balancing him on one hip. "I think everyone's been found, except Dani."

"Three guesses as to why," Susan laughed.

"Dani has been almost glued to Peter's side since the moment we met her in Anvard," Caspian explained. "And he hasn't exactly minded."

"You know, I'm not quite sure that's fair," Lucy mused. "He always was the best at hide and seek."

"Not always," Susan reminded her. "You're the one who left England just to win."

"Yes, but I _didn't_ win that game, if you recall." Lucy grabbed Lilliandil's hand again and tugged her out the door.

"Er – what was that all about?" Lilliandil ventured.

"Oh, just an old family joke," Lucy winked conspiratorially. "But Peter won't be hard to find, even if Dani's with him. I know how he thinks, and we're going to give him a scare. Come on."

/

Peter had honest to goodness started out his day with full intentions of reducing the mountain of paperwork on his desk by half. Truly.

But then Dani had tumbled into his office, explaining in rushed, lisping words the game of hide and seek. Andres was it, and he _always_ found her, and it wasn't _fair_ that she was the smallest and couldn't run as fast.

Needless to say, Peter hadn't been able to resist, and so presently he was crammed inside what he was sure was the world's smallest cupboard, sequestered beneath the back stairway. Dani was in his lap, her hair tickling his nose and her sticky fingers wrapped around his.

Footsteps came bounding down the stairs, followed by another lighter, faster tread and shouting that probably could have woken the dead. Andres must have found another of the older boys; Dani's eyes were huge but she played smart, not making a peep.

Eventually the footsteps and the shouting faded away, and Peter was just about to suggest they venture forth – his legs were starting to cramp – when the door was flung open. Dani shrieked and tried to climb behind him, resulting in one of her elbows in his eye.

"See? I told you, he always looks for the out of the way places." Lucy grinned, smug, then horrified. "Peter, your shirt – "

Miraculously, he managed to squeeze out of the cupboard without straining a muscle; he glanced down at his tunic and winced at the cobwebs and dust that coated the fabric.

"Er…sorry…"

He glanced up apologetically, but then he noticed the woman standing beside Lucy, and he trailed off. He wasn't quite sure what she was doing here, or even who she was. All he knew was he'd never seen hair that exact shade of white-gold, or eyes so blue they looked purple.

Those eyes weren't looking at him, though. They were glued to the back of Dani's head, which was all that was currently visible since she had burrowed her face into his shoulder, presumably to avoid the shame of Andres catching her.

He cleared his throat. "Dani…er, there's…there's someone here to see you."

Cautiously, the head of dark brown curls lifted.

"Miss Lilly!"

Instantly Dani launched herself towards the woman, so fast and so exuberantly that Peter almost dropped her. 'Miss Lilly' rushed forward and pulled her close, and Peter stepped back, surprised at the emotion on her face, as well as the ferocity with which Dani clung to her.

"Dani," he heard in a choked voice. "Oh Dani, I think I missed your hugs most of all."

Dani leaned back, and put both pudgy hands on her friend's smooth cheeks. "Mama comin'?"

"Soon." A kiss was pressed to the small fingertips. "But she sends her love. Do you know, she made this dress for me to wear when I saw you again?"

"It pu'ple," Dani said happily. She stroked the lace frills.

"Purple," Miss Lilly agreed, "Your favorite color."

Peter stood as if in a trance, completely aware of the fact that he was staring, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. Miss Lilly glanced up and caught his eye, and instantly the spell was broken.

"Oh goodness, I'm so – do forgive me, it's just that she…"

"It's fine," he hastened to say. "Are…are you family?"

"Oh, no," she shook her head. Dani was playing with one blond curl. "I'm Lilliandil, of Felimath."

Peter's eyes widened. "Er…Ramandu's daughter?"

"The very same," Lucy chirped. He started, having forgotten all about her presence.

"That…that ship was today, then?"

"It was," Lilliandil laughed. "But I understand having the castle full of children would distract anyone."

He couldn't help but smile at her laugh. "Still, I hope…er, someone was there to greet you, then?"

"Oh, yes," she nodded. "Susan and Caspian, actually."

"Good." What was he supposed to do with his hands? "So…so you've met everyone, then, save for Edmund and Adeline."

"Miss Addie come?"

Lilliandil hugged Dani closer. "Yes, sweet. She and King Edmund will be here within a fortnight, and soon after that they will be married, and do you know what means?"

Dani, eyes wide, shook her head.

"It means your mama will be coming here for the wedding."

The little mouth dropped open. "Mama come? Here? Weddin'?"

"Yes," Lilliandil laughed. "All because you were such a brave, strong girl and helped Miss Adeline escape the bad men. You and your mama are guests of honor."

Dani's brow wrinkled slightly, and she looked to Peter in confusion. He smiled.

"Er…it means you get to sit near me when we eat dinner."

Her face brightened. "Dance?"

Some of his nerves melted away under her hopeful gaze. "Of course; any self-respecting gentleman would ask a lovely lady such as you to dance."

Dani giggled, and unexpectedly he glanced up to meet Lilliandil's eyes; he thought he caught approval there but he couldn't be sure. After all, he met her barely five minutes ago.

He cleared his throat again. "Right, then I probably ought to find some clean clothes before lunch."

Lucy quirked an eyebrow. "Actually you probably ought to take a bath. You've got cobwebs in your hair, too."

He felt his face heat; Lilliandil smiled and Dani giggled again.

"Right." He turned to leave. "Oh…erm, it was nice to meet you, Lady Lilliandil."

"The pleasure was mine, Your Majesty," she said with a curtsy.

He left them in the corridor, desperately hoping that Lucy hadn't noticed any of the hundred embarrassing things he had done or said during the exchange, and also hoping that _Miss Lilly_ would eat with the adults rather than the children.

/

 _ **Edmund and Addie return in the next chapter! Stay tuned!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Sorry for the delay darlings. Real life has been wonderful but busy lately. Hope you like cheese because this chapter's got tons of it.**_

/

He tugged on her hand harder.

"Come on, Addie. Please?"

"Don't be childish." She dug her heels in and tried not to smile, but it was hard. Edmund's whole face was aglow with mischief, and he was already halfway into charming her into going along.

"That's like telling Trumpkin not to be grumpy." He tugged her hand again. "I promise I'll catch you."

"I don't doubt that," she said dryly. "What I doubt is the ability to retain my dignity if anyone sees us."

"Now, Addie," he began, his tone mockingly stern, "If you're so concerned with appearances, then you should have made certain Cristoff wouldn't walk in during our sparring match yesterday."

Adeline's face flamed at the memory, though she supposed Cristoff had seen stranger things – especially from her – than Edmund chasing her around the arena with an arm off one of the many dismembered mannequins.

"That was hardly _my_ fault, you dolt," she laughed, flicking him gently on the arm. It was the only thing she could reach.

"Addie, love, we leave day after tomorrow. And that banister is unlike any I have ever beheld, so I'm asking – "

"Begging, more like," she muttered.

"I'll give you that," he nodded. "In fact, I'll even get down one knee if you'd rather, since I didn't when I proposed."

More than anything she wanted to glare at him.

"Once. Do you hear me? _Once_."

"I knew you'd see reason," he kissed her quickly, not hearing her conditions at all. "Right then, I'll go first, then you follow and I'll catch you."

"Yes, all right," she shook her head. "I've gone down this banister before, Eddie."

"Not with me you haven't," he winked, hopped onto the thick banister railing, and off he went. For a moment she was horrified that he would whoop or yell at some point on the ride down, but he remained silent until his feet hit the floor at the bottom, in the main entrance hall.

His wide smile could be seen easily even from her vantage point, and Adeline nimbly jumped on, sitting side-saddle and holding onto her skirt so that it wouldn't get caught in the spindles – a lesson she'd learned the hard way.

The ride was a dream, longer and faster than she remembered. Almost before she was ready, the railing leveled out and then Edmund caught her, using her momentum to spin them round.

"Again!" he cried. She couldn't find it in her to protest; instead she raced him to the top and this time, she had her arms open for him, too, latching around his neck and kissing his cheek.

On her third trip down, and she leaned her head back and laughed. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to have fun like this. Her speed was blowing her hair back, her dress was wrinkled beyond all hope and she was sweaty and undignified, but all she could focus on was Edmund's smile, waiting for her at the bottom.

Except this time, the huge double doors opened when she was only halfway down, and Adeline sailed into Edmund's arms while Fitz, Izzy, and Cristoff all watched, mouths agape.

Edmund twirled her again, but froze mid-spin when he spotted their audience.

"Er – "

"Well, at least you managed not to tear your dress this time," Izzy said.

Cristoff was laughing so hard he could scarcely breathe; Adeline's scowl just made it worse, and Fitz just shook his head at them both before following his wife into the dining room for dinner.

"Oh, Addie," Cristoff finally gasped. "Wait till I tell Celeste. What a fine godmother you'll be."

"Oh, shut up," she said crossly. "Eddie, would you put me down?"

"I'd rather not," he responded with a cheeky grin, instead tightening his grip.

She blushed even harder, and Cristoff wandered off, chuckling all the while.

Edmund turned in the direction of the stairs, causing Addie to stiffen and clamp one hand on his shoulder.

"Eddie, we're not – we can't do it again."

"I know," he smiled, "But I asked for a picnic. Tomorrow we can spend all the time in the world with Izzy and Fitz. But today I'd like it to be just the two of us."

Her heart melted, just a bit, though she couldn't refrain from teasing. "And you feel the need to carry me upstairs because…?"

He looked at her, surprised. "Well, you'll have to clean up before we set off. I mean, look at you, you're all red-faced and sweaty and quite frankly you'd just embarrass me if we were seen together like this."

Her jaw dropped open in outrage, which was exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for. His laugh echoed off the walls.

"You are incorrigible," she had to fight her own laugh, but his lopsided grin made it rather difficult.

"My dear, you wouldn't have me any other way," he said softly.

Adeline beamed, and pressed a loud smacking kiss to his cheek. "No, I wouldn't," she agreed.

/

Lilliandil had hoped that all of the fun and excitement of staying in a castle would exhaust all of the children, but there was no such luck.

She had returned home with a ship full of children, all happily reunited with their families at the docks and bringing some longed-for comfort to her soul. But she hadn't been able to stay for more than a week before another load of children, this time from the Archenlands, were ready to be taken home.

So, Lilliandil had sailed back to Cair Paravel, and seen her charges off to their convoy that would see them safely to Anvard, before settling in for a longer stay. The wedding of King Edmund and Lady Adeline was coming up soon, and she was looking forward to meeting them both. Dani, Andres, Stella, and Issachar's parents were all coming on the next ship from Felimath as the guests of honor.

What that meant, however, was that the remaining children were a constant blur of energy, and she hadn't been able to have a moment to herself in what felt like months. Normally this wouldn't have bothered her, but she had been trying to write the same letter home for almost three days now, and hadn't gotten any further than _Dear Father_.

Feeling absolutely horrible for it, she snuck away from breakfast a few minutes early, sequestered herself in the library, and actually finished two whole paragraphs before being discovered.

"Here Miss Lilly!"

Dani burst through the door, tugging King Peter by the hand. He stumbled to a halt and tried to pull Dani back a little.

"Dani, Miss Lilly might be busy," he said gently, but Lilliandil stood up and crossed over to them.

"I'm never too busy for Dani."

King Peter grinned knowingly. Lilliandil firmly ignored the squirming in her stomach, and knelt on the floor.

"Now, sweet, what was it you wanted?"

"Pit-nit!"

She laughed softly. "I was beginning to wonder when you were going to ask for one. Shall we go and see if the cooks have anything they can send with us for lunch?"

Dani nodded enthusiastically, and took her hand when she rose back to her feet. King Peter still looked rather lost.

"Oh – one of our favorite things to do together at home is go on picnics," Lilliandil explained, feeling oddly foolish all of a sudden. "That…is it all right? I don't want to impose, or if you'd rather – "

"Cair Paravel has several prime picnic spots," he kindly interrupted. "I'd be happy to give you directions to some of my favorites."

"Oh, yes please – " Lilliandil began, but Dani gave a sharp tug on her arm. "What is it?"

"Pete come with us?"

Lilliandil felt her eyes widen before she could help them; she opened her mouth to explain that high kings didn't have time for frivolous picnics, but he beat her to it.

"Are you sure, Miss Dani?" He knelt and took her hand as though he were a knight pledging his allegiance. Dani giggled at his antics and nodded, and he turned to look up at Lilliandil, who was now fighting a smile of her own. His powerfully built frame was no less imposing in his position, but his face was all boyish charm as he silently asked her permission to tag along.

Even if she'd had a reason to refuse, Lilliandil was fairly sure she would have ignored it.

"We'd be honored, Your Highness." She gave a silly curtsy for Dani's sake, and thankfully just then she spotted the maid at the door. King Peter and his siblings had delegated what seemed to be an entire legion of servants just for wandering the halls and watching for stray children. "Here, sweet, go get dressed for something outdoors, and I'll come get you when King Peter and I are ready."

Dani happily obeyed, which Lilliandil belatedly realized left her and the king alone. He didn't seem to notice her discomfort, though.

"Are you certain you don't mind, my lady?" He had risen to his full height once more. "I know you and Dani are very close, and you've been apart for some time. I don't want to intrude."

She was surprised by his thoughtfulness, though she really shouldn't have been. "It's no intrusion at all, Your Majesty. I would be most grateful in your assistance, since my knowledge of picnic spots here would limit us to the garden or the balcony off of my room."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm sure Dani would enjoy it regardless. But there's a lovely little cove down on the beach we can get to easily."

Lilliandil gasped in excitement, unable to help herself. "You mean you can get to the water from here?"

"Yes," he said, amused but pleased. "I take it you care for the ocean, Miss Lilly?"

She came back to her senses, and flushed. "Er...yes, Sire. I suppose it's the result of being born and raised on an island. The sight calms me and thrills me all at once."

"No wonder you and Caspian get along so well," he mused. He turned to the door, but came back. "I have a few things to tend to in my study before we leave – shall I come fetch you and Dani in your chambers?"

"Yes, please," she tried to not to smile so widely; it felt as if her face were breaking in half. "There's no rush, Your Majesty. Take your time."

He smiled one last time, and was gone. Lilliandil forced herself to calmly put away her still unfinished letter, and walk to her room with all the air of a person completely sane. In truth, she could have skipped the whole way there, but she wasn't sure she could explain why.

/

Peter really did have a couple of last minute things in his study he needed to finish, but he was almost done when Lucy interrupted him.

"It's been ages since we sparred," she complained, waltzing in and draping herself across the sofa. "I'm getting soft. Come on, Peter, you can spare one morning."

"I can't, Lu." He closed the book he'd been using and crossed the room to return it to the shelf by the door.

"You cannot possibly have that much paperwork."

"No, it's –" Peter bit his lip, hesitating. He knew exactly how Lucy would react, but it would be ten times worse if she heard from someone other than him. "Er…Dani asked me to take her on a picnic."

"Oh." Lucy brightened. "That's sweet of you. So you'll be gone for lunch?"

"Yes, I'm just tidying up here and then we're leaving."

"All right," Lucy sighed. "I suppose Lilly and I will have to keep the rest of them entertained until you get back."

He wouldn't say anything. He would _not._ It was none of her business, he didn't have to get her approval for every blasted event on his social calendar –

She paused, looking at him, and a knowing gleam lit in her eye. He stifled the urge to flee the room.

"That is assuming, of course, that Lilly will be here for lunch?"

He wasn't fooled one bit by her innocent tone. He sighed.

"No, she's coming too."

He braced himself for the squeals and pokes to his ribs, but instead Lucy just stood there, pondering. When she finally did speak, it took him completely by surprise.

"Do you want me to send my cordial with you?"

He frowned. "What?"

"You know, in case you gaze into her eyes for too long and get weak in the knees."

Her smug grin was interrupted by his finger, dipped in his inkwell and smearing across her nose. He shouted in laughter at her expression of shocked outrage, but he wasn't fast enough to dodge her own attack, and was rewarded with a black streak on his jaw.

"Lucy!" He tried to push her away, but only succeeded in getting the ink smudged all the way up his ears.

"Serves you right," Lucy huffed. "I'll go now and let you primp. The offer for my cordial stands."

She was gone before he could retaliate any further, and he was forced to walk to his room with ink all over his face. Luckily, it washed off with little trouble, and he hastily donned a fresh shirt and headed for the guest wing.

Lilliandil had changed as well; he felt the air leave his lungs when she opened the door wearing a deep green dress. Dani reached up for him and he felt more settled with her balanced in the crook of his arm, her lisping chatter in his ear. Lilliandil walked beside them, carrying a blanket to sit on.

The kitchen staff were delighted to see Dani. Peter was immensely grateful that none of them sent him or Lilliandil questioning looks, though he didn't doubt the gossip mill would be blazing once they left. In short order, a basket was packed with a more luxurious tea than Peter himself had most days, and he hefted it in his other hand while Dani waved goodbye over his shoulder.

Lilliandil proved to be a pleasant walking companion, which didn't surprise him. She knew enough of the legal matters of running a place like the Cair, though on a smaller scale, so she had a number of questions. She even had some suggestions on the finer details of organizing the migration of all the children back to their homes. Peter was shocked when it seemed barely ten minutes had passed, and they were already at their destination. He was sure the journey normally took almost three times as long.

Dani squirmed to get down, and immediately set about taking off her shoes and stockings. She squealed in delight at the sand between her toes. The rocks provided a slight overhang, enough to give them some shade but shallow enough to feel as though the ocean was at their feet. He glanced over and noticed both Dani and Lilliandil gazing out at the open sea.

Peter grinned. "It seems she likes the shore as much as you do, my lady."

Lilliandil laughed, but suddenly turned to him. "You really ought not to do that."

Startled, he looked up from where he was unpacking their lunch. "What?"

"Address me so. You outrank me considerably."

He was speechless for a moment; she mistook his silence for agreement, and knelt to help him finish emptying the basket. Abruptly, he recovered the power of speech.

"It's not really about rank," he said softly. She looked confused, and he floundered until he glanced over and saw Dani nearby, picking up seashells. "It's really just about….courtesy, I suppose. You have been older sister, guardian, mother, and doting aunt all at once to these children, and I honestly don't know how you do it. This morning in the library was the first time I think I've ever seen you sitting still."

Lilliandil looked absolutely floored, and he was about to apologize for making her obviously uncomfortable when he glanced over again.

"Dani! Don't wander so far away, please." He watched to make sure she came closer to play, and when he looked at Lilliandil again she didn't look surprised or upset, just pensive.

After a moment, she said, "Still, I'd really prefer you just call me Lilliandil. Or Lilly."

Feeling devoutly thankful that Lucy hadn't accompanied them on this outing, he smiled. "Only if you call me Peter. You address my siblings informally; I'm beginning to think you don't like me at all."

She blushed prettily, but laughed. "Perhaps I just don't want to forget that you _are_ actually a king. My first impression of you involved a game of hide-and-seek and dust in your hair."

It was his turn to blush, but he was thrilled that she didn't really see him as a stuffy, unapproachable figurehead. When she had left after her first visit to Cair Paravel, she'd been almost stiff in her goodbye. Now she was teasing him over a picnic that she was sharing with him and Dani.

"If you've never gotten dusty playing hide-and-seek, then you're playing the wrong way, Lilly."

She smiled, but just then Dani came over, windswept and already covered in sand, but very hungry, and Peter let himself simply enjoy the sunshine and the food as much as he did the company.

/

 _ ***sing-songy voice* Peter's got a daaaaate…..**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm sorry, everyone. I had family medical issues and school and work and writing just had to take a back seat for a while. But I've graduated, everyone's doing better, and I finally have time to work on this. Those of you who are still with me – you're a saint, every last one of you. Hope this helps make up for the delay.**_

/

Peter squinted at the sunlight reflecting off the harbor, shaking his head. "It's not like them to be this many days behind schedule."

"Too right," Reepicheep agreed. "Though the centaurs did say there was to be some nasty weather along the coast. Perhaps that's what's keeping them."

"I hope so," Peter muttered. "We really can't spare the men for a search party, but if an entire ship of children goes missing we'll have no choice."

"My advice is to give it till the end of this week," Trumpkin offered. "Then talk it over with your brothers. Edmund should be back by then."

"He's due in three days, actually." Peter smiled in genuine pleasure. He'd never begrudge Fitz and Izzy having their time with what was left of their family, but he did miss his brother and soon-to-be sister. Their wedding was only five days away, then they would leave again for a month's honeymoon in the Telmarine castle. Hopefully after that, they would be ready to stay at the Cair for a while.

"Lucy is nearly beside herself with planning the wedding," he continued, grinning at Trumpkin's snort. "So I think the sooner they arrive, the sooner she'll quit hunting the rest of us down to help with decorations."

"I fear I shall be recruited to hang ribbons from the high pillars," Reepicheep said regretfully. Peter laughed, and turned back to the castle.

"Well, at least you'll have a good bargaining chip with Addie in the future." Trumpkin grumbled. "I'm being _guilted_ into service, making sure the fauns don't misplace any of the dratted flowers. Who's going to count if there are exactly thirty bouquets in the windows on each side of the hall?"

Reepicheep laughed, just as one of his mice appeared in the doorway with a summons from Caspian. There were still a few minor repairs to be done in the citadel from Xaviar's attack, but things were looking so much better than before that no one complained. Trumpkin took his leave as well, which meant Peter was alone in his office for what felt like the first time in months.

He knew that wasn't quite fair, since Lilliandil had done admirably with convincing the children to give him some peace and quiet so he could actually get some work done. And really, he worked late most nights anyway, unable to sleep for long without his family whole and safe under one roof.

Still, Lilliandil had adamantly told him she would keep the children entertained this afternoon, while he "tried to find his desk under all that paperwork".

He smiled to himself, shuffling through the parchments to find the census records he needed. It was best he stay busy now, anyway, since once the next ships arrived he'd never know a moment's peace. The ship from Felimath was due five days ago; on board were the parents of Issachar, Stella, Andres and Dani, as well as number of other guests for the wedding.

The worry was beginning to give him a headache.

But, he reminded himself, Reepicheep was right – there _had_ been some stormy weather off the coast, typical for the region, which could easily be the explanation. In fact, the weather here promised to be not much better today. But he had an itch on the back of his neck that indicated otherwise – the same feeling when Xaviar had shown up at the Cair, when Edmund was captured, when Adeline had given herself up to the Rebellion. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but Peter had learned to rely on it, a sort of instinct that things weren't quite what they ought to be.

Sighing, he found the document he needed; just as he'd feared, it was smudged and illegible.

 _This is why Lucy keeps harping for you to organize things in here_ , he reprimanded himself. He'd have to write the whole thing out again. His hand cramped from the mere thought, but he doggedly set to work, moving from one form the next, burying himself in everything and not surfacing until a servant knocked on the door.

"Sire, shall you want dinner sent up?"

Blinking, Peter glanced out the window. Sure enough, dusk had long since past – along with his family's meal time. Suddenly he noticed how much work he'd actually gotten done, and how hungry he was.

"Er – no, thank you. I think I'll stretch my legs a bit."

He tidied up the much smaller mountain of paperwork, and briefly checked the polished shield hanging on the wall for ink smudges on his face before setting off for his rooms. He was tired, his eyes felt scratchy, but sleep felt miles away, so he decided to head down to the beach. The waves never failed to soothe him, and if he wanted to be of use to anyone tomorrow he desperately needed to rest.

His chambers were quiet, but he relished the calm as he changed out of his formal clothes. Peter remembered being quite surprised, all those years ago when he'd been hardly more than a child with a crown on his head, at how comfortable royal garments were. He'd expected them to be tight and itchy, but the tunics and breeches in his wardrobe were loose and breathable. Still – he grinned as he pulled on a pair of cropped breeches and a loose nightshirt, and headed down the hall barefoot.

Sometimes it was nice to pretend you weren't a king.

/

Lilliandil had always loved the sea.

Her mother had died when she was hardly more than a toddler, but one memory had always been clear and untainted – a day spent in the sun down on the beach, playing in the waves and watching her mother smile at the expanse before them.

" _Aslan created the sea to help us feel small,"_ her mother had said. " _It's good for us to feel small sometimes, otherwise we'd forget how great He is."_

So, whenever Lilliandil needed to feel small, she came here.

Well, not here specifically. _Here_ usually meant her little sanctuary at home, a tiny stretch of the shore below her father's manor where the sea would spray her feet and soak the hem of her dress, leaving seaweed on the rocks and salt in her hair. She could hear nothing but the roar and crash of the waves, and she could easily spend hours in that spot.

This, while not _her_ place, was almost just as good, even if she'd had to use a rowboat to get there. A large rock sat some distance from shore, though not too far should any trouble arise. But the rock was sloped just so, as some are, where she could sit, and dangle her feet over the edge, and be sheltered from view of the castle all at once.

She'd only discovered this little haven a few days ago, when she'd been swimming with Dani. She hadn't shared, instead sneaking back later that night. And she had found a strange, unique beauty in the calmness of this sea, as opposed to the wild, raging surf of Felimath. Here, the stars and moon were normally reflected in the rippling surface, always changing but never frothing too much to be obscured.

The sky was vast, pressing down with its thick darkness, but she was usually so mesmerized by the stars that she didn't mind. Tonight, though, thick clouds hit the splendor from view, but she found the place calming as it always was regardless. She could, quite honestly, sit here for hours on end every night for the rest of her life and be perfectly, blissfully happy.

At least, until something quite unexpectedly splashed loudly at the base of her rock, and a wet, strong hand grabbed her ankle.

She was too frightened to scream, too frightened to do anything but lash out with her other foot, and felt her heel make solid contact with something hard.

There was a nauseating _crunch_ and a muffled yelp, and when the hand released her leg Lilliandil immediately scuffled further away from the edge; if there were more attackers nearby it certainly wouldn't do to give away her whereabouts.

She heard more sputtering and coughing, then –

" _Lilly?_ "

Staring up at her, stripped to the waist and treading water, was Peter. Without the moon it was darker than usual, but the entire seaward side of Cair Paravel on the cliff above them was lined with torches, meaning she could just make out the hand that was trying to stem the blood gushing from his nose.

"Oh no," she gasped.

"What are you – "

"I've broken your nose!" Lilliandil all but wailed.

"But you haven't," Peter interjected. One hand gripped the rock while the other prodded the offended appendage a bit, and though he winced he also nodded, satisfied. "It will be quite sore tomorrow, but there is no lasting harm done. Truly."

She eyed him skeptically, and he raised the hand on his nose as though taking an oath. "Really, Lilly, I – "

"What's happened to your hand?" She interrupted, and he glanced at his palm, stained with fresh red.

"Oh. Erm, I think I grabbed the rock with my other hand, to pull myself up, and when you kicked me it tore the skin a bit. Don't worry, it's nothing."

But she was already slipping into the water. Her skirts swirled about her knees, but she paid modesty little mind and tugged Peter's hand up to her eye-level, and examined his nose immediately after.

"It does look quite mild," she admitted after a moment. "Still, I feel just dreadful. I had no idea anyone was close by at all – "

"Then your reaction was certainly justified. _I_ had no idea anyone was out here, otherwise I would have at least made myself known. I'm very sorry I frightened you."

"That's all right," she assured him. He looked so guilty, even with red staining his teeth. She winced.

Peter grasped her elbow with his good hand, both of them still treading water. "Come, let's dry off a bit."

He turned to help her, but a thud and a scraping noise brought his head whipping around. She put a hand on his arm. "It's nothing, only the rowboat I borrowed to get out here."

"Ah." He glanced down, his ears turning slightly red in the dimness. "Then…er, you didn't swim out here?"

"Oh. No, I didn't." She was grateful not for the first time that she wore a black nightgown whenever she went swimming at night. "I've been in the water since, it's nice and warm still. But I'm not as familiar with the tides as I am at home, especially in the dark."

He nodded, and turned once again to assist her back onto the rock. Once they were both seated, Lilliandil tugged her satchel that had been in the boat over to her.

"Here, this will take away the sting of the salt."

He accepted the skin of water and clean cloth with a smile, though he couldn't hide his grimace when he tried to clean his nose. Her insides twisted with guilt.

"Let me."

She refused to take no for an answer, and Peter was too surprised to do anything but let her take the water and cloth and tend to his wounds herself.

"I am so very sorry, Peter." She couldn't stop herself from saying it once more, even though now that she was finished it was evident the injuries were minor.

He rolled his eyes the way he often did when Lucy teased him. "As I said, Lilly, it was my fault."

"Still," she insisted quietly. She tried to avoid eye contact when he was this close – the darkness shouldn't have let her see how blue his eyes were. But there they were, shining at her with that frank, open stare he seemed to reserve for people he didn't understand.

"I didn't think anyone knew about this hideaway except me."

Instantly she withdrew, guilt curling her insides all over again. "Peter, I – "

"That's not what I meant," he interrupted gently, apparently not having foreseen how his words would be taken. He leaned over the side and rinsed the red-stained cloth. "I just meant you must be quite an explorer to have found it."

Something about the way he said it indicated that he considered an explorer a wonderful thing to be, and so she smiled. "I found it the other day when Dani and I were here. But I didn't share, I'm afraid."

"I can hardly blame you," Peter said with a grin. "I've known about this spot for well over a thousand years and have never breathed a word to anyone."

Lilliandil started as the full meaning of his words hit her. "You found it in the Golden Age?"

"I did." Obviously recovered from his wounds, the king leaned back on his hands while Lilliandil found herself torn as to which parts of him were best to look at – it certainly didn't offend her that he'd left his shirt onshore. The island of Felimath was comprised of its main port surrounded by villages inhabited largely by deep-sea pearl divers. In her world, men without their shirts on were rather common place, though _Peter_ without his shirt on was decidedly…not.

Still, she concentrated on folding her hands demurely in her lap. It wouldn't do to gawk. After all, she'd probably shown him more of her legs a few moments ago than he'd seen on any woman and his eyes hadn't lingered. It was only fair.

She was brought back to the present by thunder rumbling overhead, and by Peter's chuckle. "I remember the day I found it," he said wistfully. "I ran away from dancing lessons, and was rather determined not to go back."

Lilliandil laughed. "I am not surprised. Lucy has been groaning for days now that she will have to continuously nag you to dance with at least one other lady than the bride at the wedding."

Peter rolled his eyes, but smiled. "My sister has a great affection for the romantic. While I find it endearing to witness in her, I find the execution to be…"

"Excruciating?"

He shot her a look that told her he didn't appreciate her sense of humor. "I was _going_ to say tiring."

"Yes, well you'd best be sure not to be too _tired_ to dance with at least one nobleman's daughter five days hence."

"I shall have to remember to ask Dani, then."

Lilliandil swatted his arm, which felt like it was made of harder stone than the one they were sitting on. "Dani isn't a nobleman's daughter, Peter. Try again."

All amusement faded to surprise. "Really?"

"Really. Her father was a knight for mine, but died in a boating accident when she was only a babe. I took on her mother as my personal seamstress; that's why Dani and I are so close."

"She adores you," Peter said, his voice implying that he was not at all confused about the matter.

Lilliandil felt herself flush, and rearranged the knee-length skirt of her dress to distract herself. More thunder sounded, closer this time and she glanced up at the heavens. The wind was stiff and strong, but there were few things she loved more than a good storm. She was glad to see that Peter didn't seem to be anxious to leave either.

"Did her mother make this garment as well?" One of his hands fingered a fold of the black fabric, careful not to touch her.

Surprised, she nodded. "She did."

"You must go swimming quite often." He grinned, and she couldn't help looking surprised.

He laughed. "Lilly, I have two sisters; the… _practicality_ of a dress like this one for swimming, especially at night, is not lost on me."

She blushed deeper, but chuckled along anyway. "It is rather convenient," she admitted. "I used to have to bring a whole other set of clothes to avoid scandal. Now I just bring along a blanket for warmth."

As the words left her mouth she suddenly noticed one rain drop on her arm, quickly followed by another, and within moments the entire sky opened. The sea suddenly resembled the one she knew from home, white-capped and turbulent, and she eagerly leaned forward to watch the foam break on their stone. Peter laughed, even as he copied her, and in the flash of lightening his grin looked dangerous – boyish and handsome. Lilliandil felt a swoop in her stomach.

Quite suddenly, he paused. "Do you hear that?"

She strained, not making out anything over the storm, but then –

Bells. From the harbor.

"Trouble, of some kind." His brow was furrowed, lost in thought as he tried to help her into the rowboat. "They're coming from the harbor, on the other side of the peninsula. The fastest way is back up through the castle, come on."

She stopped him, having to shout over the wind. "I believe it will be much faster if we swim to shore. I'll make certain the boat is retrieved later."

He nodded, and a few minutes later she stumbled out of the water, sand clinging to her bare feet and a piece of seaweed stuck to her cheek. But she didn't stop, and kept pace with Peter as they ran back up to the castle.

/

Caspian had tripped climbing out of bed – after almost accidentally knocking Susan onto the floor – and his trousers were on wrong side out, but he couldn't be bothered to care. The entire harbor was lit with torches and lanterns, and while there were no frightened screams yet, something told him they wouldn't be long in coming.

"Caspian!" Lucy met them on the palace steps, muddy hunting boots on under her nightgown and robe tied haphazardly. "What is it?"

"Don't know," he managed as they broke into a run, trying not to slip on the wet cobblestones in the pounding rain. Susan slipped her hand into his when they got to the lower circle and, sure enough, they could hear screaming children.

"Sire!" Reepicheep darted through the crowd, his eyes wild. "Th-the ship! It's the ship, in the harbor!"

Caspian's stomach dropped, but he pushed his way through the crowd, Susan in one hand and Lucy clinging to his other arm, and they stumbled to a stop together at the top of the path that led down to the docks.

"Aslan's mane…." Lucy whispered in a hoarse prayer.

Caspian wanted to echo her, because surely only Aslan could be of any help on a burning ship with people screaming at the rails, waving their arms in entreaty. But his throat was too dry in horror. The entire vessel was overtaken in flames; the fact that twenty passengers plus the crew had found a piece of deck big enough to stand together without being injured was a miracle in and of itself.

"What's happen – " Peter choked on his words, panting and with his hair ruffled like he'd sprinted there from Calormen. "Dear God – "

"The boats," Lucy said suddenly, as if to herself, and then again, louder: " _Get the boats!_ "

Caspian wanted to weep, to ask what the point of trying was – every way off that ship was aflame: every ladder, every line. Nevertheless, there was a flurry of activity down at the docks, until a voice shouted back that the boats would be too dangerous, due to the storm and the flaming debris that was scattering across the waters. They'd lose most of the men they sent out for certain.

They were standing, hopelessly watching their people cry out in despair, when a slim, dark-robed figure darted out from their midst and pelted through the rain down the pier.

"Lilliandil! _No!_ " Peter's command was louder than the thunder, but the Lady of Felimath was as good as deaf. She jumped, high and arcing and graceful, and disappeared into the sea before anyone could say a word more.

Peter lunged for the docks, Caspian with him – the harbor of Cair Paravel was not known for being a safe swimming hole, the currents creating a riptide that ran far too close for comfort to the shore. Not to mention that it was dark, and the entire harbor was caught in a violent storm, and there was a _burning ship_ towards which Lilliandil was doggedly swimming.

Peter staggered to the end of the pier, wiping rain out of his eyes and gasping for breath even harder than before and staring dumbfounded across the harbor. Lilliandil had already nearly gained the ship, not to be deterred by the pieces of rigging and sail that fell in fiery streaks around her, hissing into the water. "That…that – she – "

" – will be fine, brother." They both turned to see Lucy, cordial in hand and a determined set to her brow. "For the moment, perhaps you could oversee the toting of fresh water to bathe wounds. I daresay there will be plenty of need for it."

Caspian took a deep breath, and pressed a kiss to her temple. Dear, sweet Lucy, with her pluck and determination to do whatever good she could even if it wouldn't be enough.

"Come," he said to Peter, who gave one last dark look towards the harbor before nodding and following him.

/

Lilliandil, having always loved the sea, had naturally always loved to swim.

Her father had affectionately called her 'dryad' practically from infancy, though she doubted he would have called her _anything_ affectionately had he been able to see her dive headfirst into an unfamiliar harbor at night, during a storm, and swim towards a burning ship.

She was, upon drawing abreast of the port side, able to see that all of the normal ladders were on fire. Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she made her way to the bow and discovered that the figurehead was mostly untouched by the flames, and that a small group of dryads were clustered nearby in the water, looking up at the blaze in alarm.

"Can you help?" Lilliandil shouted, quite forgetting her manners.

One of them looked startled. "We cannot leave the water," she said, her musical voice barely audible over the storm, the crackle of the flames, the shouts from onshore, and (worst of all) the screams of the poor souls still on board.

"No, I mean, _yes_ , I know you can't leave the water, but _I_ can, and if I hand them to you, can you see them safely to shore?"

She had no sooner finished her jumbled question than a burning piece of wood splashed into the harbor, a mere six inches from her shoulder. Sparks and cinders sprayed over her, and she quickly dunked her head to be sure her hair wouldn't catch fire. The dryads stared at her, wide-eyed, and she huffed.

"Well, can you or not?"

"We will get them to shore," came the soft, firm response. Lilliandil nodded, and turned back to the ship, critiquing its position in the harbor. She knew from asking around the docks that there was a riptide nearby, but if she remembered the fishermen's warning correctly they wouldn't be near it if they stayed towards the port side of the bow. She pointed to the spot for the dryads to wait, and then turned to assess her own situation.

By some small miracle the bow was still largely intact; she took a moment to mentally apologize to all of the decent, respectable men onshore who were going to see _much_ more of her legs than was deemed proper, and reached up to one of the many handholds that a Narnian ship provided with such an intricate figurehead.

Climbing the bow took only a few moments longer than it ought to have, since there were spots here and there where the fire had spread, and what wasn't on fire was slick with salt and rain. She did her best to ignore the pain in her hands and feet, though it felt like years before her feet touched hot planks. She cast about wildly, darting between swinging ropes of fire, and spotted the pitiful huddle of people not ten meters away at the port side railing.

" _Oi!_ You lot! Quickly, if you please!"

Several of them, coughing on smoke, turned at her shout. Only one of them started towards her immediately, though the rest followed him after only a brief hesitation.

"What's your idea, lass- oh. My lady." The man bowed awkwardly, and Lilliandil shook her head. She recognized several of them, Dani's mother in particular, but they had to get off the ship _now_.

"Now's not the time for formalities, Lord Darius. Can any of you swim?" Most islanders could swim quite well, indeed all but the smallest child (hardly more than an infant) nodded, but even so she was grateful the dryads were on hand. Unfamiliar waters were a danger to anyone.

"Right then, if you'll come this way, come on quickly…" she led them to the spot she'd climbed over, using the figurehead – which was a dragon, she noticed with a mad urge to laugh. She peered over the side, and was startled by how closely to the top of the ship the dryad hovered, her tail a long spout of water that blossomed straight out of the harbor.

"Hurry! The storm is powerful, we cannot fight it for long." The musical voice urged, and Lilliandil nodded, held her hand out to the trembling young woman with the babe in her arms.

"That's it, don't be afraid, they'll see you safely to shore. Just keep hold of that sweet one there and all will be well."

The new mother shot her a grateful, if incredulous, smile, and let her feet leave the wooden railing. Lilliandil didn't bother to watch her progress; the deck was sure to collapse at any moment and that was saying nothing about the flaming beams and masts raging above their heads.

She shepherded them off the ship, one by one, the dryads returning so swiftly she knew that those who had already left were getting to shore safely. The last one was Lord Darius, but when she gestured for him to go forward he shook his head.

"No, my lady. Not before you."

She huffed, and waved her hand at him more urgently. "My lord, we _really_ don't have the time to discuss this –"

"I will not put my safety above yours, my lady. Else I would never be able to stand before your father again."

Lilliandil frowned quite heavily at him. "Lord Darius, your son is waiting for you on shore. I am commanding you as the official representative of my father – _get off this ship_."

He opened his mouth to argue again, but a blinding flash of lightening and a deafening crack from above stopped him short. Lilliandil didn't spare a glance upwards, she didn't need to in order to know that something big and heavy and quite probably on fire was plummeting in her direction. Instead she leaned over, grabbed Lord Darius by his collar, and used every ounce of her strength to pivot on her heel and hurl him towards the edge. He toppled over with a shout, and Lilliandil barely had time to see that a dryad caught him before she jumped.

Only, there was no dryad to catch her, and in her haste and fear her leap took her quite a bit further to the starboard side of the bow than intended. The impact was terrible, her whole body throbbing and all her limbs turning to mush as she drifted. Her ears thrummed with the sounds of the creaking, breaking ship that were audible even underwater.

 _Underwater? Well, Lilly, you'll not be of much use to anyone down here._

Mentally shaking off the aches and the cobwebs, she kicked to the surface, gasping when the night air slapped against her face, and coughing when she was dragged under again unexpectedly.

 _The riptide._

Lilliandil pushed back the panic quite soundly; this wasn't her first time getting caught in a riptide, and losing one's wits was a sure way to make things worse. The storm would surely complicate things, but she'd manage.

She adjusted her course, swimming along with the current, parallel to the shoreline and breathing when she was able. It felt like she'd been in the water for years and mere moments both, but she needed to be careful not to use this strategy for too long, else she'd be dashed against the rocks at the entrance to the harbor. She waited, watching for the right spot, where the current would turn as it swept out to sea…

 _There._

She altered her course, just a tiny bit, to where she was more diagonal to the shore; she felt the current pull at her ankles, but she kicked harder, clawed her arms through the water furiously, refused to think of the nearby rocks or the big, dark ocean just behind her, and _swam_.

After what felt like a century had passed she looked up and found herself nearly at the piles of the pier.

She was trembling with exhaustion down to her littlest toe, but she glanced over her shoulder and saw the smoking remains of the ship, barely visible above the waves, and she pushed on. As she came closer, voices floated over the edge.

"You did not see where she fell?" It was Peter's voice, nearly vibrating with worry.

"No, Sire, I did not. She caught me by surprise." That was Lord Darius, his voice heavy with guilt. She treaded water for a bit, resting, before grabbing onto the top of a pile, hoisting herself up till she could reach the edge of the planks. The storm had not lessened, and the rain combined with the harbor's salt water was making the wood damp and slippery.

"Peter," she called, loudly as she could over the wind.

There was a halt in the frantic conversation above, during which she could only hope one of them saw her fingertips curling over the edge.

"Lilly!"

There were two loud, bounding steps, and then Peter appeared, still bare-chested and lying on his stomach across the rough boards and reaching to gently grasp her upper arms and pull her topside. Her teeth were chattering, her legs wouldn't work quite as they were supposed to after such a vigorous swim, and she collapsed against him, unable to even remain on her knees.

He let her, his free arm snug around her middle and the other hand smoothing her drenched hair off her forehead.

"You're all right?" He asked, heedless of the small crowd of healers, his siblings, and the ship's passengers pressing around them. His eyes pierced her, blue and nearly as turbulent as the waters she'd just escaped from. She took a deep breath with only a slight cough and nodded, trying to stop her teeth from clacking together too loudly.

"Yes, I'm fine."

He didn't look entirely convinced, though the storm in his eyes eased a _tiny_ bit. "C'mon, let's get you out of this rain," he muttered. He clambered to his feet, scooping her off the ground and holding her close as he made his way to a tavern set on one of the lowest streets of the city. The main room was crowded with wounded, Lucy flitting among them. Her hands were full of bandages and bottles of various medicines, but her cordial was still at her belt, which made Lilliandil breathe a sigh of relief.

Peter set her down in a chair near the roaring fire, while the innkeeper's wife went hunting for more dry blankets.

"My lady, are you well?"

She resisted the urge to huff, instead smiling reassuringly up at Lord Darius, who looked pale enough to drop in a dead faint where he stood.

"Yes, my lord. I'm quite unhurt." She stretched her toes towards the hearth and rubbed her arms vigorously.

He nodded, seemingly more pacified than Peter was with a simple reply, and turned his attention to one of the other passengers. To Lilliandil's immense relief, the crowd dissipated and she was more or less left alone with the High King.

"I'd like Lucy to take a look," he muttered, almost to himself.

"Don't you dare," she commanded, only releasing him from her glare when he nodded tersely. "Some of those people are truly hurt, and I am _fine_. I promise."

His eyes flicked down her legs – good gracious, had her skirt been _that_ high this whole time? – and back up to her eyes. "You can't walk."

"I got caught in the riptide," she admitted reluctantly. Peter's sharp intake of air was loud and noticeable enough that Susan, who had been standing nearby bandaging the arm of one of the young sailors, turned at the sound.

"What is it?"

" _Nothing_ ," Lilliandil insisted. "I am cold, and my legs are simply worn out. That's all, I assure you."

Peter shook his head, muttering something about never letting her near the docks again, but she could read the relief in his shoulders and knew that he didn't mean it. He probably said the same thing about Susan and her arrows after every battle.

"She was caught in the riptide," he informed Susan, and that lady's mouth dropped open in alarm.

"You were gone for nearly two hours." She said, stunned.

 _Two hours?_ No wonder her legs were like jelly.

"We were about to send out a search party," Peter said, though softer so that Susan didn't appear to have heard him. Instead she turned to another sailor, this one with a bad burn on his neck and jaw. Lilliandil shook her head, but Peter's gaze became rather stern. "Lilly, we didn't even see you jump. I thought you'd gone down with the ship until Darius told me otherwise."

Now it was her turn to gape. "Oh. I-you didn't…?" She bit her lip, guilty now, though certainly not regretful. "I am sorry you worried."

Peter stared at her a moment longer, and only stopped when the innkeeper's wife brought over the promised blankets. He busied himself wrapping them around her, until she resembled the most ridiculous, sopping wet caterpillar in its cocoon.

"Lilly, that was incredible. You saved them all." Caspian appeared through the crowd, and squeezed her shoulder gently. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, thank you," she smiled up at him. "Never better."

"You can't _walk_ ," Peter said again, stubbornly, though with more dry sarcasm than real worry.

Caspian glanced at his brother. "Pete, we can handle things here if you want to see her up to the castle. I'm sure a hot bath and some rest will help more than anything. The rain has stopped, at least for the moment."

Lilliandil didn't even get a chance to protest before Peter swung her up into his arms again, giving her no choice but to cling to his neck.

"Peter, I – "

"Are your legs recovered?" he interrupted, gently but with a hint of steel in his eyes.

She sighed. "No."

"Very well, then." He shifted his grip, and trudged up the streets through the damp, smoky air.

/

By the next morning, things had calmed considerably. The guests from Felimath were shown to their rooms – after joyous reunions with their children – and everyone enjoyed an extensive lie-in. There had been no deaths or serious injuries, only loss of property. Dani's mother lamented the loss of two new gowns for Lilliandil, but as the latter had yet to rise by midafternoon, Lucy suspected the bereavement was not as heavy as it might have been.

In any case, all regret over things lost was a small thing in light of what the honored guests had gained – Issachar, Stella, Andres, and Dani had received their parents (and vice versa). The reunions had brought tears even to Caspian's eyes, and perhaps this day of quiet recovery was the best thing for them after so many months of separation.

Lucy had not taken herself to bed until the first streaks of dawn were starting to spread across the horizon, so she was not abashed when she arrived downstairs at nearly three o'clock in the afternoon.

She was, however, surprised when Edmund, Adeline, Fitz and Izzy walked through the doors, surrounded by their servants and looking quite perplexed.

"Ed!" She hurried forward to hug them all eagerly. "We weren't expecting you for another three days."

"We made excellent time," Fitz answered. "Not that we mind letting ourselves in, but where is everyone?"

"Oh," Lucy suddenly realized why they looked so confused. All of the servants were either resting or with the mess down by the docks. "We had an eventful night, so everyone is still recuperating today. But your rooms are all ready, except for yours, Addie. Lilly's in that one, just for the evening."

"Lilly?" Edmund echoed.

"Lilliandil. Daughter of Felimath's governor. She had a closer scrape than anyone, got caught in the harbor's riptide – "

"What on earth was she doing, swimming in the harbor?" Izzy asked, horrified.

"One our ships caught fire, and – "

Edmund interrupted. "On fire? No one was killed, were they?"

"If you'd let me _finish_ ," she swatted his arm, "I'd tell you that everyone is fine, only a few moderate burns on some of the crew and of course Lilliandil came closer to drowning that is good for our comfort. But we have all enjoyed a lie in today."

"I've heard of Ramandu's daughter, though have not met her. Gwen always wanted to." Adeline said wistfully.

"You'll adore her," Lucy said, grinning at the golden opportunity she now had. "Peter certainly does."

She was not disappointed; there was a moment of stunned quiet, then Edmund grabbed her upper arms, his eyes positively gleaming. "Lucy Pevensie, you tell me whatever gossip there is to tell _this instant_."

"Oh, I can't do that," Lucy laughed. "You need to watch him around her, it's endlessly amusing. But you mustn't tease Lilly about it, Ed. She's really very nice."

"I won't," he promised, but still grinned. "It's about time Peter's gone sweet on someone. All those girls in England always tripped over themselves to get his attention, but he was always caught up in us and his studies."

Teasing as he was, Edmund was right; Peter had always taken his responsibilities far too seriously, usually at the cost of his own happiness.

She showed the travelers to their rooms, using her own for Adeline's things until Lilliandil would awake. Then she gave the full account of the evening before over tea.

"She just jumped in?" Fitz asked for the third time.

"And made it through an hour of swimming. In a riptide, no less." Edmund muttered. "Well, Lu, you said she's not a warrior, but she's certainly made of strong stuff."

"I suppose you meant that as a compliment, Your Majesty."

Lucy spun to face the door, where Lilliandil hovered uncertainly.

"You may be assured I did," Edmund responded immediately, rising and greeting her in the middle of the room. "My sister tells me you saved many lives last night, at great risk to your own. I was not here, but you have my thanks regardless."

Lilliandil flushed, but smiled and gave a small curtsey. "It was nothing, Sire."

"Peter seemed to think otherwise," Lucy cut in dryly.

"Peter is a worrywart," was the immediate response. Lilliandil flushed darker and glanced up at Edmund. "I – forgive me, Your Majesty – "

"Oh, no," Edmund laughed. "Please, call me Edmund. This is my betrothed, the Lady Adeline, and King Fitz and Queen Izzy of Archenland. But since you have so obviously earned my family's respect and friendship, you'd better leave the titles behind you."

Lilliandil grinned up at him impishly. "I shall, so long as the courtesy is returned." She reached to greet Adeline, and then Fitz and Izzy.

"I never had the honor of meeting your daughter," she said quietly. "But her reputation was known even amongst my people. You and your country have my deepest sympathies."

Fitz and Izzy both thanked her quietly, and Edmund caught Lucy's eye, giving her an approving nod.

"Lilly," she said, getting everyone's attention. "You are feeling all right, aren't you? You're quite entitled to stay in bed all day if you wish. Your legs surely are not recovered yet."

"They are not," Lilliandil admitted, "but walking about seems to be doing them some good. I will turn in early tonight; for now I am hungry. But I meant to tell you that Peter is still in his chambers. Was he injured?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy saw Edmund smirk, then pretend he hadn't before Lilliandil noticed. She barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

"I don't believe he was, but I'll go check on him anyway. It would be just like him to not say anything."

Lilliandil nodded, looking relieved, and Lucy realized she had been hoping the queen would offer to do just that.

 _You poor thing,_ Lucy thought to herself as she climbed the stairs _. You've got it every bit as bad as my brother._

Peter did not answer his door, and when she entered the bed was empty. She frowned, wondering if he had snuck off down to the docks earlier, when she heard muttering coming from his bathing chamber.

"Peter?"

The muttering ceased, and the door creaked open.

"I thought you'd still be in bed." Peter was dressed, save for his shirt, and was trying to wrap his hand in a linen bandage.

"I was until just a short while ago," Lucy said crossly, taking the bandage from him to survey the three deep scratches across his palm. "You didn't say you were going down to the docks to help clean up earlier."

"I didn't."

She scowled. "Then this happened last night, and you said nothing?"

"Lu – "

"Despite the fact that I asked you?"

"Lucy." Peter put his good hand over hers. "It didn't happen at the docks. It happened before the fire, and I honestly forgot about it until this morning."

Somewhat mollified, she continued wrapping the injury. "What did you do?"

There was a pause, which always meant he didn't want to tell her something but knew she would find out anyway. "I scared Lilly."

That was the _last_ thing Lucy had been expecting to hear. "What?"

"I went swimming, and accidentally snuck up on her doing the same."

 _Wait till Ed hears this._

When she voiced the thought Peter shook a finger at her. "Don't even dream of it, Lucy. Edmund will hear nothing of it."

"Unless Lilly tells him."

"Why would she do a thing like that? She was mortified."

"Perhaps, but he's currently charming her downstairs over tea and scones."

Peter hesitated, then jerked. "They're here?"

"Yes."

"Well, why didn't you start with that?" he grumbled as he pulled on a clean shirt and his boots.


End file.
